


It Takes Two

by ImOutOfMyVulcanMind (LoopyLu94)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Creepy gang members being creepy, Drink Spiking, Drinking, Drug Dealing, F/M, Gang Violence, Gangs, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Murder, Threats of assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoopyLu94/pseuds/ImOutOfMyVulcanMind
Summary: Nearly a year ago you accepted the offer to work with Batman, to train under him, learn from him, be his partner. Yet when a seemingly normal drug bust on Christmas Eve brings memories back from the past, you find that partnership tested to its limits.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Reader
Comments: 19
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

A solid fist to your jaw sent you stumbling backward but failed in its job to knock you down. You grabbed the wrist, moving as you twisted the arm. The other fist came up, aiming at your stomach. You blocked it, using the momentum to swing yourself around, legs hooked around your attacker’s neck, and jerked them to the ground. 

You rolled immediately back to your feet, grinning, believing you’d won. 

A foot swept your legs out from under you then came up with the other, delivering a hard kick to your middle that sent you flying backward. 

You hit the floor hard, the breath knocked out of you. Your attacker was on you in a second, gun pointed at your forehead. 

“Bang. Dead,” they growled. “Never presume victory.”

You lay panting, glaring up at Bruce. “Got it,” you said, batting the hand that was holding the fake gun away. Bruce didn’t move though, remaining where he was, keeping you pinned to the training mat. “I’d like to see a crook get up from that beating though.”

“Maybe most won’t, but there are some out there a lot more dangerous that won’t hesitate to kill you.” Bruce finally moved, knee leaving your stomach to let you actually catch your breath. He tossed the gun to the side and offered out a hand. 

You refused it, pulling yourself back to your feet instead. “Good thing I have a partner to watch my back then.“

Bruce hummed, frowning. He did that a lot. "I wouldn’t say partners. You haven’t fully earned that mask yet.”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you went to grab the water bottle instead. You’d been training with Bruce for months now, and still, he treated you like a child more often than not. Occasionally you regretted your decision to take him up on his offer to take you under his wing and train you properly, thinking that maybe it would’ve been better to just continue by yourself. But even though he was as tough as it got, the training had made you a better vigilante, and the new kevlar suit he’d had made for you was definitely an improvement. Both design and safety-wise. Plus it was just easier to work with the Batman than against him. You’d learned that the hard way. 

“So what now? Another round?" 

Bruce nodded as he picked up the fake gun again and took his position in the center of the mat. 

You were just about to join him when Alfred appeared in the room. "Sir, the Batsignal.”

Bruce dropped the gun and looked at you, “Suit up.”

~

You landed silently on the roof behind Bruce, your cape billowing gently behind you. You’d been doubtful when he’d first suggested one, but you’d come to like the steady warmth of it on your shoulders especially in Gotham’s harsh winter. 

Gordon was on the other side of the roof, back facing the both of you as he looked out over Gotham. 

“Gordon,” Bruce greeted, voice coming out deep and gravely due to the voice modulator. 

“Jesus!” He cursed jumping and turning around. “D'you think one day you could do that without giving me a heart attack?!" 

Bruce said nothing, just walked forward into the light more with you shadowing him. "What is it?”

“Straight to the point it is then," Gordon muttered, glancing over Bruce’s shoulder at you and nodding in greeting. He flicked the rest of his cigarette to the ground, letting it fizzle out in the snow. "We just got a tip that there’s a drug deal going down at the docks tonight. I’d have sent some of my guys but what with the holiday we’re already understaffed.”

Bruce nodded, “We’ll deal with it.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Bruce turned, giving you a look that meant follow, and jumped off the edge of the building. 

~

The tip-off was accurate. The warehouse Gordon had sent you too was crawling with armed goons patrolling the perimeter. 

“How did we not catch wind of this?” You whispered from where you were perched in the shadows next to Bruce. 

“We’ll figure that out later. First, we stop it. Surveillance shows fifteen men outside, and another ten inside. I’ll take the North-East, you the South-West and meet on the roof.”

You nodded, “Got it.”

The goons didn’t stand a chance. Not one noticed you swoop in and take them down one by one quick and quiet. Not a peep came from Bruce’s area either, not that you’d expected him to be spotted. 

You grappled to the roof, landing silently a second before Bruce, boots crunching softly in the undisturbed snow. You exchanged a look and Bruce motioned to a small panel. A vent. He made quick work of getting it loose, and you followed him, dropping down and keeping your footsteps soft against the metal as you landed. Bruce had already undone the cover on the inside and crept out onto the rafters. Joining him, you found a vantage point to spy on the people below. 

“Boss said to flog the green stuff first, keep the prices low ‘til the kids get hooked, then sell 'em the blue pills. Better high, better price.” One man said, talking to the others surrounding him.

“What’s the deal when they can’t pay?" 

"Tell 'em they owe you a favor. Boss’ll call it in soon enough.”

Your hand balled into a fist on instinct at the conversation. Selling drugs to kids was bad enough, but you also knew that the 'favors’ owed would likely end badly, that the poor kid in debt would be more than expendable. 

Glancing over at Bruce, he was still looking down, observing. The moment they started to distribute the drugs, he pounced. 

The smoke grenade landed smack in the middle, with both of you following immediately behind it. The first time you’d tried to fight in the smoke it had ended with Bruce taking you down immediately, but now you moved through the dense cloud with practiced ease, finding your targets and eliminating them from the fight. 

Despite Bruce’s insistence that you weren’t partners yet, the two of you worked together near flawlessly. You were in-sync, knowing what the other was going to do before they did it. One tried to swing at you as you were fighting another, flailing near blind in the smoke but still coming close enough to land the hit. You swerved to the right, and the attacker was instead met by Bruce’s fist in his face. Another attempted to lurch at Bruce with a knife. In a second the knife was clattering across the concrete floor, and the crack of a bone-breaking filled the air. 

The smoke began to clear and in the corner of your eye, you saw a masked goon grab a gun and aim it at Bruce. Without even needing to think, you threw one of your batarangs, the metal slicing through the air until it embedded itself in the man’s hand before he could even get his finger on the trigger. The gun dropped to the floor and you kicked it to one side before taking him down.

Straightening out, you looked around. Only the two of you were left standing.

“Good work,” Bruce said, and you had to resist the urge of fake fainting. 

You simply nodded instead and turned to start securing the perps while Bruce contacted Gordon. It was a simple process until the sleeves of one of the crooks rose up exposing his wrist and the tattoo on it. 

The small symbol, a dagger through a rose, turned your blood to ice. It had been years since you’d last seen it, but the image was scarred into your memory forever. 

“I know who’s behind this.”

~

“Curt Roman? No, It’s impossible.”

You were standing in front of the Batcomputer with Bruce and Alfred, looking at several photos of a businessman. 

“Bruce, it’s him.”

“I know Curt, he’s a friend. He’s donated hundreds of thousands to Wayne Foundation programs.”

“And no one who does good could possibly have a secret?" 

Bruce gave you a look. "He also has no criminal connections. Or a tattoo of a dagger through a rose.”

“Of course he doesn’t! He’s being clever! Doesn’t make him innocent!" 

"Certainly doesn’t make him guilty!” Bruce turned to face you, arms crossed over his chest. “What evidence do you have?" 

"I don’t have any. I just know it’s him!" 

"Not good enough.” The words came out in a growl, and it was tough not to wilt away under the intensity of the glare. There weren’t many people who could staredown Batman, but you were damned sure you were going to be one of them. 

“It’s. Him. Trust me.”

“Give me proof and I’ll consider it. Until then we’re going to focus on what we actually know; that a gang baring this symbol is trying to flood the streets with drugs. Finding out who they are is more important than a wild goose chase.”

“It’s not-" 

"Enough! Go home, Y/N.”

“You’re benching me?!" 

"No. I’m giving you a chance to re-evaluate and come back with a clear head.”

You wanted to argue. You were pissed and he was brushing you off. But he was also adamant, and arguing would be like talking to a brick wall. 

“Fine.”

“Good. Be here tomorrow for patrol.”

You turned and stalked your way to the back of the cave where you could change back into your civilian clothes in peace. So maybe you tossed the discarded pieces of armor to the floor a little harder than was necessary, you didn’t really care. You hated that Bruce didn’t believe you, thinking that by now you’d at least earned some trust. And it wasn’t like he never went on gut instinct. He often followed it until he found tangible evidence. But it seemed he valued his rich friend over your thoughts. 

You looked down at the suit once you were done, and started to pick it up. You were mad at Bruce, not Alfred, and you weren’t going to let him clean up your mess. 

Like he knew you were thinking about him, Alfred appeared, hands clasped behind his back. “Are you okay, Miss Y/N? Master Bruce can be a bit too brusque sometimes.”

Chuckling softly, you nodded. “I’m fine, Alfred, it’s nothing I’ve not handled before.”

“He can be quite protective of his friends.”

You decided not to say how you thought you were his friend too. 

“So it seems.” Busying yourself with putting the suit back in its case properly, you hoped Alfred would drop the subject. 

Thankfully, he did. “Before you leave, are you sure you don’t wish to join us for Christmas lunch? There will be more than enough, and as they say, the more the merrier.”

“They also say three’s a crowd.” Facing Alfred again you smiled. “Thank you, I appreciate the offer, really, but I do have plans.”

Alfred watched you a moment, looking to see if you were telling the truth no doubt, and for a second you could’ve sworn he looked disappointed when he saw you were. “In that case, take this.” He brought his hands forward, showing you the wrapped gift he’d had hidden behind him. “It’s from both of us.”

Meaning it was from Alfred, but Bruce had forgotten. 

You took the gift, feeling the weight of it in your hands. It had give to it, so probably a sweater or some other item of clothing. Whatever it was, you had no doubt that it would be gorgeous. You slipped the item into your bag carefully, and kissed Alfred’s cheek, feeling him smile. “I’ve left gifts for you and Bruce under the tree.”

“Quite stealthy of you, miss. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Alfred.”

~

The present was a sweater. A deep red cable-knit sweater that was almost too soft to be real. It was beautiful and warm and comfy, and Alfred definitely knew you well. 

You wore it to lunch, laughing when the young girl that launched herself at you at the door commented on how soft it was. 

“Wow, Wayne really goes all out for his employees, huh?” Chloe, the girl’s mom said, hugging you in return. 

“Not like he can’t afford it.” It wasn’t a lie really. You had started to work for Bruce since you’d started 'working’ with him, and he was a good enough boss to make sure everyone received a nice gift. Just maybe not that nice. 

“True enough." She laughed, "Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Aunt Y/N! Come see what Santa brought me!” Mollie tugged at your hand, pulling you away from Chloe and over to the tree where a pile of presents sat. She started showing you each one, going on about it excitedly and making you look every individual item over before moving to the next one. 

Glancing over your shoulder, Chloe was watching you both. She mouthed a 'thank you’ and you smiled. You’d do anything for either of them. Including making sure Mollie had the best Christmas possible. 

You helped Chloe make lunch while Mollie played and watched some dumb Christmas movie, and for a couple of hours, everything was perfect. Until you’d just finished clearing up and there was a knock on the door. 

Mollie ran to answer. “Hell-ah!” Her yell had you spinning away from the sink, blood running cold as four masked men barged into the apartment. One had Mollie in his arms, pistol aimed at her head. 

“Stay calm and no one gets it.” Another said while the two remaining crooks aimed their guns at you and Chloe. 

“Mommy!" 

"Shut up!” The man holding her growled, pressing the barrel firmer to her temple. 

The first one to speak and one of the others started grabbing everything and shoving it into bags, the fourth keeping you and Chloe trapped in the kitchenette with his gun trained on you. 

“These two’re pretty, boss. Whatcha say abou’ lettin’ us 'ave a little Christmas treat?" 

Chloe shuddered next to you, sniffing quietly. 

"Don’t see why not. We can spare a few minutes.”

Like hell that was going to happen. 

You glanced down at the counter, weighing up your options. If you were suited it’d be easier to mount an attack, but as it was there was next to nothing separating you from their bullets. 

There was a knife in the dish rack to your left, sharp enough to do some damage. To your right were some ingredients that had yet to be put away. Flour. It could cause enough distraction. 

With one hand you pushed Chloe to the floor in the same instant as you tossed the knife across the room. It hit the guy holding Mollie square on the hand gripping the gun. He yelled, the gun dropping and his grasp on Mollie loosening. The girl reacted, jerking herself loose and dropping to the floor. 

There was no time to make sure she was hidden. You grabbed the flour, tossing it over the man in front of you before he even knew what was happening. You caught the gun, wrenching it from him and tossing it aside. Using his body and the momentum, you shoved him forward, barging him into the other two. 

A gunshot rang out, the bullet flying past your ear. You pushed the one you were holding hard against another, letting him go in favor of taking down the last one steady on his feet. Another shot and you felt the pain in your leg. A quick glance down saw blood on your thigh. Just a graze it seemed. 

You moved again, disarming the one with the gun, a swift blow to the head with the butt of it knocking him down. The third went down seconds later. The only one left conscious was the one who’d grabbed Mollie. He was on his knees, knife still through his hand apparently not even taking notice of everything else. 

Not taking the chance, you jumped over the table, and in a moment he was slumped on the floor with his associates. 

You stood over him, panting. Sirens could already be heard in the distance, getting closer rapidly. You turned, facing back to the inside of the apartment. Your eyes landed on Mollie, hiding under the table. You opened your arms and she came bolting out, all but jumping into your arms as she clung to you. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered, “Are you hurt?" 

She shook her head and you sighed in relief. "Good girl. You’re safe now.” Another set of arms wrapped around you. Chloe. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Y/N…thank you.”

“I promised I’d look out for you, and I meant it.”

Footsteps were approaching rapidly, and the three of you were still hugging when the police burst in, guns drawn. 

This was going to be interesting to explain. 

~

“Miss Y/N, are you alright?” Alfred asked the moment you stepped foot in the cave. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised, but you’d still hoped to avoid the conversation immediately. You smiled and nodded, “It was just a scratch. I’ve had worse.”

“You were lucky,” Bruce spoke from his seat at the computer, already suited up. “And foolish.”

Biting back a sigh, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I suppose you would’ve done differently?" 

"I wouldn’t have risked too many questions being asked by showing off.”

“No one asked too many questions. They barely even asked any questions at all. You seem to forget that I’m from a part of town where it’s perfectly common for people to know how to scrap.”

“Oh, so you come across regular citizens disarming four armed robbers often, then?" 

"Not unheard of.” Not wanting to argue anymore, you turned and walked away, heading to get changed and ready to go out. 

The two of you went your own separate ways on patrol, sticking to your designated areas, and only communicated when necessary over the coms. Bruce thankfully kept any further comments to himself, only speaking when necessary for the job. 

It was a surprisingly quiet night. You’d expected worse since half the police force was off with their families. It seemed even the crooks wanted to take Christmas off. 

You got back to the cave tired and cold, but not entirely unhappy. Being out in Gotham at night was surprisingly relaxing, especially when it was quieter. 

“We need to talk.” There went your good mood. 

“About?" 

"Today. If anything like that ever happens again, wait it out.”

“So I was supposed to just stand by and watch as they robbed the place?!" 

"We could’ve tracked them down tonight.”

“Yeah, that would’ve been real easy. Track down four amateurs who just picked the joint at random. Come on, Bruce, we both know that would’ve been a needle in a haystack!" 

"It would still be a better option than risking yourself!" 

"It’s exactly what you would’ve done in that situation!" 

"I’d have kept my head, and not needlessly risked my own safety if there was no risk of any harm actually happening.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. Liar. “They had a gun to a child’s head! I don’t care if they weren’t planning on shooting, the threat was enough!" 

Bruce’s jaw clenched. Apparently, he didn’t know that. "You could’ve been killed.”

“Worse things would’ve happened if I hadn’t risked it.” Bruce frowned, clearly not understanding. “They weren’t planning on just leaving once they got the goods. They were going to stay for a little Christmas treat." 

Now he got it. 

"So don’t stand there and tell me how I should’ve waited it out! For once get off your god damned high horse, and stop acting like I don’t know what I’m doing! I know, Bruce. I know I could’ve been hurt or killed, that it was dangerous. Trust me, it wasn’t my ideal way to spend Christmas day either. But I’m not apologizing for it. I’m not going to say sorry for protecting an innocent woman and her child, even if it had ended with me going down!" 

"Y/N-”

“I’m going home. I’ve had enough of being treated like a child for one night.” Turning sharply, you stomped away, not failing to notice how the night had ended this way twice in a row now. 

You did love working with Bruce. Hell, you were fond of him in general, but he was infuriating recently. Maybe the two of you were just incompatible as a team. You wanted equal footing, but it always seemed that Bruce wanted someone to give orders to. And it wasn’t like you weren’t fine with listening to him. He had the experience. But when it came to the point that he was trying to order you about for every little thing? That was too much. 

You were midway through stripping when you heard the footsteps approach the secluded changing area. They were too heavy to be Alfred’s, and much louder than Bruce usually was, which meant he was purposely giving you a heads up. 

You didn’t stop. You’d been semi-nude around each other enough times over the last few months that it had long stopped being an issue. You finished taking off the outer suit and started removing the thinner layer underneath until you were down to the shorts and vest. 

“Does it hurt?" 

You glanced down at the bandage around your thigh. It had been hours since you’d taken pain meds. "It’s fine.”

Bruce moved to stand next to you, starting to pull off his own armor. “Are you okay? In general.”

“I’m fine.” You moved away from him, tugging your jeans and sweater back on. 

“If you keep saying that, it might start sounding believable.”

“Didn’t think you cared much either way.”

There was a long pause, and yeah, maybe that was a bit of a low blow. “Of course I care, Y/N.” His voice was soft enough that you were almost inclined to believe him. “What we do is dangerous, and I don’t want to see you get hurt unnecessarily. But you were right in what you did today. It is what I would’ve done.”

That was probably as close to an apology as you were going to get. “I don’t need you to babysit me, Bruce.” You sat heavily on one of the benches lining the wall and looked at him. “I’ve been through more than even you know, more out of the mask than under it.”

Bruce pulled a t-shirt over his head and frowned as he walked his way over to sit next to you. “Y/N-" 

You shook your head, "I’m tired, Bruce. I don’t want to argue anymore.”

“I don’t want to argue. I was just going to ask if you were okay again.”

Oh. “Yeah,” you sighed, “It’s just been a day.”

Bruce nodded, “Are they alright? The others?" 

"Terrified, but not hurt. Wanted me to stay with them tonight, but I put them up in my place for the night instead.” You’d been looking down at your hands, but glanced up at Bruce as you smiled, “They also kinda hate you now. I told them you had me working.”

Bruce chuckled, “Thanks.” He fell quiet and you didn’t have the energy to muster up any small talk either. You were about to get up and leave when he spoke again. “Who are they? I saw the names on the report, and I know they aren’t family.”

“It's…complicated. I promised someone once that I’d look out for them.”

“Someone who isn’t around anymore I take it?" 

"Yeah.”

“You were close.”

“Something like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“With some things, it doesn’t matter how much time passes, it continues to hurt.”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?" 

"It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Would’ve thought Bruce Wayne would be busy making the most of what’s rest of his Christmas night. There must be parties going on still.”

“Great. Rooms teeming with people who’ve had too much to drink and no longer know about personal space. My favorite.”

“So you’d rather be here and share feelings? It’s a Christmas Miracle!”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I am. Surprisingly, I didn’t learn that from you.”

“Okay, so I’m not the best sharer. That doesn’t mean you should practice the same habits. I’m here to listen, Y/N.”

You sighed, fingers playing with the hem of your sweater as you debated just getting up and leaving anyway. That’s what a part of you wanted. But the other part wanted to open up. And Bruce was probably the only person you could trust enough to do so. If you got lucky it might even change his opinion on some things.

“His name was Dean. Grew up together. Same building. Same classes. Spent as much time in the other’s apartment as we did our own. Best friends. First dance. First date. First kiss.”

“First love?”

“First love. We didn’t exactly have it easy, but we were doing good for ourselves. Got into college and everything, and that was pretty rare for kids like us back then. There was an old warehouse nearby, abandoned. We used to sneak in and hang out there. About the only time, we actually got some peace and quiet for ourselves. We could stay there for hours, just sitting and…being with each other. No talk, no pretense. Just us. The night we found out we’d gotten into college, we went. It was late. Closer to the next day really. Didn’t matter. Not to us. I don’t know how long we sat there. We talked about dreams, the future, our future, everything two hopeful kids could talk about. It was perfect.”

Pausing a moment, you closed your eyes. “Then men came in. Six men. We were near the back so they didn’t see us immediately, and too busy making sure it was clear outside to notice us scrabble to hide. There were some beams in there, old, surprising they were still standing. We managed to hide behind them. One each. I thought maybe at first they were the owners of the place. Maybe someone had bought it and was checking it out, or something. But then they started to talk, and it was clear that if they did own it, they weren’t planning on doing anything legal.”

“Drugs mostly. How and where they were going to distribute it, you know the deal. We’ve heard it enough times. But one of them went on about something else. About leaving the country for a few years. He was their boss by the sounds of it, and he said that if he wasn’t around suspicion would lay off him and that was what he wanted. It…was terrifying. We knew this shit was going on, but to actually listen to plans being made? We were out of our depth. I remember thinking that we just had to keep calm. Hide and wait it out then run and try and decide what to do. So simple in theory.“

"Dean must’ve been leaning on the beam or something, I don’t really know. But it creaked. Loudly. Or it seemed loud. They were on alert in a second. They found him. Dragged him out. I don’t know how they didn’t see me.”

“They beat him. He told them what he heard, swore he’d never utter a word, but they beat him anyway. Couldn’t really see much from where I was, but I could hear the hits, hear him cry. And then…then the boss ordered another to shoot Dean. Kill him. Said they couldn’t risk him going to the cops. I couldn’t see Dean, but I saw the gun. I watched it fire and I heard him drop. And they just left him there. They left him and walked out. Said no one would give a shit.”

“I ran to him as soon as they were gone. He was still alive. Barely. His shirt was soaked and he was bleeding so fast. I didn’t know what to do. He was scared. Knew he was dying. And he asked me to take care of his sister. I told him I wouldn’t need to, that he’d be there, but he made me swear. Made me swear that I would and I did. He told me to go then. To get out before the cops showed up to investigate the gunshot.”

“And I did. I ran. And I didn’t stop running until I was home and locked away and scrubbing the blood off my hands until it hurt. I left him to die. Alone. Because I was scared. What’s worse is that I let them get away with it because I was scared. Because I was too much of a coward to say anything. I let the cops brush it off, say Dean just got in with the wrong crowd, and drop the investigation. I just…made sure his sister was okay. Made sure his niece was okay. And…never said a word to anyone. Until now.”

You stopped, taking a shuddering breath. Your leg was trembling, knee bouncing, your hands balled into fists so tightly your nails were close to breaking the skin of your palm. Bruce was quiet, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him and see what he was thinking. He was probably getting ready to tell you how you should’ve been braver. How you should’ve stopped them or helped the police, or done something other than run and hide. 

Then his hand was taking yours, prying your fingers so he could slip his own under them. “You weren’t a coward.”

“I ran. Pretty sure that makes me a coward.”

“It makes you smart. You were a kid, Y/N. A kid with no training. If you’d tried to do anything they would’ve killed you. And going to the cops with accusations like that would’ve gotten you killed too. You did what you had to to survive, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Thank you.” It didn’t particularly change the guilt, but finally telling someone did feel like a relief, and Bruce saying you were right did mean a lot. 

“Of course. Do you have any idea who they were? If they’re still around? We can take them down." 

You hesitated and nodded. "Yeah, I have an idea. The man with the gun. I saw his wrist. He had a tattoo.” You met Bruce’s eyes. “Of a dagger stabbing a rose.”

“That’s how you knew them. What else?" 

"Not much. It wasn’t much to go on, so I left it alone. For years. Just focused on Chloe and Mollie. Then one day, a couple of years ago, I was doing some laundry, had the TV on in the background. Some announcement for a new charity in Gotham. I was only half listening. The founder came on to give a speech. The moment he spoke…I was back in that warehouse all over again. It was exactly the same. It was him. The one who gave the order. The one who disappeared. The one who was now back.”

“Y/N, are you saying… ”

“It was Curt Roman, Bruce. He was the one giving orders in the warehouse.”

Bruce looked surprisingly shocked. “You’re sure? It was years…”

“I heard that voice in my dreams every night for years. I’m sure. And I looked into it. He left for Europe days after.”

“This is why you started doing this.”

“Yeah. I had…some more to go on, and I…I just couldn’t let him get away with it again.”

Bruce nodded but was silent. You thought maybe he was going to insist you were wrong. That it must be someone else. The trauma of the night must’ve messed with your memory. He’d be wrong, of course, but you weren’t prepared to argue the point anymore. If he wouldn’t believe you, you’d take Roman down by yourself one way or another. 

“Then let’s get him. Together.”

That you weren’t expecting. “You believe me?" 

"I do. If you say he was there, that he’s involved, then he is.”

You smiled. Bruce returned it. “Thank you, Bruce.”

“We’re going to bring him to justice, Y/N. I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Bruce’s promised help, you start work with to take down Roman and his gang. Setting your sights on his Number One, you have to find a way to get the information you need.

The picture on screen was of a man, dressed in a smart business suit. Early forties, tall, fit, handsome. Smug. He was smiling and shaking hands with someone who’d been cut out of the photo. There was something unsettling about it. 

“Dagger, real name Troy North,” Bruce said, pulling up files of records next to the image. “From the Intel, we’ve been able to gather this week he’s the frontman of a gang operating under the name The Torn Rose.”

“Lovely,” Alfred commented. 

“Police have almost nothing on them. They work through middlemen who have rarely breathed a word against them.”

“That kind of silence can only be bought,” you said. 

Bruce nodded his agreement. “And if he’s the Dagger, someone must be wielding him.”

“Roman.”

“Roman. Take him down and the rest of the gang will suffer. But we have nothing on him, which is the problem. We don’t have anything on either of them.”

“So what’s the plan?" 

"If we can get a bug onto his phone, we can access everything he has, listen to conversations, get what we need.”

Alfred nodded, “How do you intend on doing that, sir?" 

Bruce glanced at you, "North is set to attend the New Year Eve’s party at the Golden Feather, one of the most exclusive clubs in Gotham. Costs a small fortune to get a membership, and a large fortune and considerable influence to get an invitation to the party.”

“Both of which Bruce Wayne has plenty of.”

“I can get us in, but I’m not the kind of company he likes to keep at these events.”

You already knew where he was going. “I’m not going to like this, am I?" 

"Probably not.”

“Great.”

~

“I was right. I hate this,” you grumbled, taking Bruce’s proffered hand as you clambered out of the car, attempting to not slip on the ice with your heels while maintaining your dignity in the short dress you wore. “I miss my boots.”

Bruce didn’t say anything, but there was definite amusement in his eyes. You whacked him lightly once you were stable. “It’s fine for you! You get to wear a fancy suit! A fancy, warm, suit.”

“Well if you stopped griping we could get inside,” Bruce said, keeping your hand in his as you walked up to the entrance of the club. There was no line, just one bouncer standing outside the door. With the amount people paid to get in though, he was definitely not the only security around. 

Bruce passed the bouncer a fancy looking ticket, and seconds later he was opening the door for you. The warm air inside was an instant relief. The sparkly silver dress did absolutely nothing to protect you from the cold. It was so skimpy you weren’t even sure it could be called a dress. But it was the kind of style your mark liked his women to wear. 

“Remember the plan?” Bruce asked quietly as you walked in further. Music was playing, and there was some dancing on the floor, but it wasn’t so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think. Everything about the club yelled opulence. All gold and red, and a giant Christmas tree taking up the center. 

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Good.” Bruce guided you to the bar on the bottom floor, and ordered you both a flute of champagne. Glass in one hand, he slipped his free arm around you, hand settling low on your hip. From the outside, you made an attractive couple. “Safeword?" 

"Guacamole. Not that I’ll need it.”

“Never say never. He might be relaxed tonight, but he’s a dangerous man.”

You nodded and let it drop. Bruce wasn’t a fan of this any more than you were. If anything he liked it even less. You knew that. This was your first undercover op, and while it was relatively straight forward wasn’t entirely risk-free. 

The two of you walked up to the next floor where some gambling tables had been set up. He kept his arm around you, taking you to the roulette table near the middle. A good spot to keep a lookout from. Bruce busied himself with small talk and throwing away money, while you stayed at his arm, playing the part of a ditzy date while eyeing up everyone in the room. 

Thirty minutes in and you spotted him. He seemed to be by himself, with just two other girls on either arm. Following him, you noticed subtle nods at various other patrons. Men, who didn’t quite look like they were comfortable in the overpriced suits they were. One shifted, raising a glass to his lips, and you caught a brief glimpse of a gun holster. Not by himself. 

“Baby, can we go sit down? My feet are hurting.” You asked, drawing Bruce’s attention. “There are some seats right over there.”

Bruce looked away from the wheel and up towards the few private booths at the edge of the room. 

“Not yet. I’m on a roll." 

"Please?" 

"I said no!" 

"Fine,” you snapped, setting the flute down with a clatter loud enough to garner a few looks and pulled yourself away from him. 

You made sure that the route you took to the bathroom passed by the booth North was sitting in, and spent a few minutes inside before re-emerging and heading to the bar on that floor. 

You leaned against the bar, ordering a mocktail, and sipped it silently. It took all of ten minutes before you felt the presence of another person sidle up next to you, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back. 

“A woman as beautiful as you should never be by herself,” a voice said in your ear. 

It was only by some great restraint that you didn’t crack the glass in your grasp. You hadn’t been sure, but hearing his voice confirmed. He’d been the trigger man. You’d hoped he wouldn’t be. That there’d been a changing of the guard since that night. Your stomach flipped, and it was a fight not to throw up your drink. Things were going to be harder now, but the mission hadn’t changed. 

You giggled, turning your head to face North, your eyes meeting his green ones, and forcing yourself not to shudder. Or punch him. That was also a strong urge. “You offering to change that?” You smiled. 

He took a moment, making a show of eyeing you up and down. The smile that curled lips was more shark-like than anything. Predatory, like he was intending on you being his meal. You hated the feeling, but it meant you had your foot in the door. “What about your date? I wouldn’t want to deprive him of you.”

“I don’t think he’s missing me too much.” You motioned over your shoulder back to where Bruce was still standing at the roulette table. He’d gotten the attention of a beautiful blond, a model going by her slender figure, and was seemingly in the process of wooing her. 

“His loss.” North turned his body more towards you, “May I buy you a drink…?”

“Minnie. And champagne would be wonderful.”

North gestured to the bartender, ordering two glasses, then looked back at you. “Troy.”

“A pleasure.”

The glasses were set down and North passed you one, offering his own to clink against before taking a sip. 

The two of you talked. Just general chit-chat mostly, with a few awful jokes thrown in that you laughed at anyway. North’s other hand never left your back, thumb often rubbing small circles over the fabric. You were definitely in, but a final push was needed to cement it. 

“What do you think of my tattoo?” You asked, turning so he could get a good look at the flowery pattern that ran up your thigh and disappeared under the hem of your dress. It was fake, but it looked real, and intel suggested North appreciated tattoos on his lovers. 

North hummed, dropping his hand away to trace a leaf. “Beautiful. How high does it go?" 

"All the way,” you purred, watching his eyes light up. “He doesn’t like it. Said it made me look cheap.”

North tutted, “You deserve someone with better taste. Someone to fully appreciate you.”

“That an offer?" 

"Most definitely, sweetcheeks.”

“Excuse me, but you have my date.” Bruce came up behind you, knocking North’s hand away to slip his own arm around you. 

“If you wanted her attention, you should’ve taken better care.” North retaliated, returning his arm to your waist. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that she’s mine.” Bruce was slurring his words slightly. 

“I think that should be up to the lady.” He was playing into the ploy perfectly, apparently a sucker for being a woman’s thug in shining armor. Or more likely a sucker for the woman’s gratitude. 

You looked between the two of them a moment, then smiled. “I say there should be a contest!” You laughed, clapping your hands. “See who can handle their liquor better. Winner gets me for the night. Loser gets driven home by the butler.” You winked at North and he grinned. 

“I agree.”

“Game on.”

You stepped back a little as they ordered several shots, and watched as one by one they started to down them. Bruce made a show of getting hit by the whiskey only a few in. It was a lie. He had some technique or trick that meant he wasn’t actually getting drunk that he’d assured you of when going over the mission. 

North, however, was taking full hits with each shot. He could hold his alcohol, but you could see it was affecting him. You didn’t want him too drunk though. Not yet. 

Bruce wobbled on his feet and slumped back onto the stool behind him, shot glass tumbling from his hand and spilling across the bar. 

North smirked, his arm snaking around you once again. “Guess I win.”

“I’d say so,” you giggled, draping yourself over him and looking at Bruce. “Go home, darling. I’ve found myself a real man.”

You turned away from Bruce with North, “So about my offer?” North whispered in your ear. 

Chuckling, you smiled. “I would love it. But I prefer some privacy.”

“That I can do.” North led you a well-concealed doorway, the man lounging near it immediately opening it to let you through. “VIP area. Special invite-only,” he said, leading you up the steps. 

You knew of the area, but not much. The level of privacy it offered meant next to nothing could be found on it. It was dark inside, a lot darker than the bright glamour of the other floors. Music was playing, a steady deep bass, but the only ones on the floor were semi-nude Go-go dancers. You scanned the room as North took you through. There were at least three well-known politicians in the middle of taking very illegal looking substances, and several more were in the process of exceptionally indecent acts. No wonder it was private. No cameras either. Alfred wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on you from the cave like he had been below, but that was expected. You still had the coms piece in your ear. 

A sudden burst of static took you by surprise, the noise crackling loud enough in your ear to nearly make you flinch. 

Apparently, this part of the club blocked out signal. Great. 

You were on your own then. 

That was definitely not part of the plan. You didn’t like it, but it wasn’t enough to deter you. Just had to hope that Bruce would trust you enough to not interfere. 

North took you to a quiet table in the corner out of view to most of the floor. He ordered you more drinks. He was already more than tipsy, but it seemed he wanted you both drunk. Which was what you’d hoped for. He was making this too easy. 

His inebriated state meant he was sloppy, unfocused. Which in turn meant it was all too simple to keep subtly adding your drinks to his own glass, topping it up while yours went down. 

The only downside was that as he got increasingly drunk, he got increasingly handsy too. He was well into your personal space now, hand forcing its way onto the inside of your thigh, too high up for your liking, breath reeking of alcohol as he leered, comments becoming increasingly more vulgar and explicit. You were actually glad the coms weren’t working and hoped they couldn’t hear you either. 

“So what do you do?” You asked, sliding his hand back down again. 

“’m very powerful. Top o’ the chain,” he slurred, planting a kiss to your neck. It was still a fight not to flinch away. 

“Yeah? Number one boss?" 

"Alm'st. Some'ne above me. Not f'r long.”

“Oh?” You coaxed, figuring you might as well get as much info as you could out of him. 

“Goin’ away February. Makin’ me b'ss.”

You hummed. You didn’t have much time then. A month to take down Roman. It could be done. Especially after you’d gotten the bug on his phone. 

North suddenly pulled back a little, downing the rest of his champagne. He beckoned the waiter over. “S'mthin’ diffr'nt! House red!” He ordered. 

The waiter disappeared and a minute later he was back with two large glasses of red. North was watching you, apparently waiting to see what you thought of it, forcing you to actually take a drink. 

You were no wine connoisseur, but you knew when something wasn’t right. The bitter taste was subtle, too subtle to be noticed if a person were already drunk, but it was there. Something had been added to the wine. Nothing good you imagined. Was he really trying to roofie you? 

Time to wrap the night up. 

You scooted close to him, one arm wrapping around him, fingers coming up to play with his hair and distract him, while the other slipped into the small purse you’d kept by your side all night and pulled out the small pill. 

“Got anywhere we can go?” You asked him, keeping his focus on your face as you dropped the pill into his wine. 

North grinned, teeth bared. Despite his drunkness, he still had a predatory glint in his eyes. “P'nthouse not far. Helluva view.”

“Perfect." You passed him his wine. "Drink up and let’s go.”

North all but downed the wine in one, while you pretended to drink yours. 

The sleeping pill worked quickly. One moment North was smirking at you, the next he was slumping back in the seat. Finally. You glanced around the room. No one was paying attention. Pressing closer, you slipped a hand into his jacket, finding his phone with ease. To anyone looking in, it would seem like the start of a makeout session. They wouldn’t see you plugging a small USB into it, allowing you to plant a program that would give you unlimited access to everything on the device, along with any new messages and calls. 

The phone beeped softly and you shut the screen off. Done. Tucking the phone back away, you grabbed your bag and slid out of the seat. No one noticed you leave, and by the time North would come to, there’d be no trace of the pill in his blood. To everyone, it would seem like nothing more than North having one too many and passing out. 

The moment you stepped back onto the gambling floor the coms crackled back into life, “Y/N?” It was Bruce. He sounded worried. 

“Here. No signal upstairs.”

“Thank God. Are you alright?” Alfred asked. 

“Fine. Heading out.”

“We’ll be waiting outside.”

True to word the car was waiting right outside the moment you stepped back into the freezing night air. The windows were blacked out, but you knew it. You managed to make it by yourself, opening the door and clambering inside. Alfred mercifully had the heat up high. 

Bruce was in the next seat, looking every bit as concerned as he’d sounded. “Are you okay? When you went silent we worried.”

You nodded, pulling off the wig you’d been wearing all night, and kicking off the heels. “I’m fine, really. It all went to plan.”

“I know. The computer is already downloading everything on the phone.”

“Good to hear.” You slumped back into the soft leather, closing your eyes as Alfred drove off. 

“You could’ve slipped the pill in sooner, gotten out of there.”

“He had to be drunk enough that passing out would be believable. You said that yourself.”

“I did. But that was when I thought I’d have your back if it got too much.”

“Wasn’t worth the risk.” You opened your eyes again and looked at Bruce. “Thank you for trusting me to see it through.”

Bruce nodded and smiled softly, “We do need to look into running coms another way. I’d rather not have that happen again.”

You decided not to say that you felt the same way. Glancing out the window you realized Alfred wasn’t taking the route back to your flat. “We’re going on patrol?" 

"Not unless they put the signal up. Even then you’re not. You’re taking the rest of the night off.”

You were going to protest but couldn’t find the energy. “Why bring me to the manor then?" 

Bruce shrugged, "Thought it’d be better if you stayed the night. Ring in the New Year.”

You laughed quietly. “Careful, or I’ll start to think you actually want to spend time with me.”

Bruce got a look on his face that you couldn’t quite figure out. Like he wanted to say something but stopped himself. Another time you would’ve pressed it, but after the night, you couldn’t be bothered. “Your shower is better than mine, anyway, and I need to get the stench of his god awful cologne off me.”

It was a surprisingly welcome relief to see the manor approach. It felt more like arriving home than you’d anticipated. Alfred pulled into the garage and stopped the car. 

You climbed out, immediately struck by a wave of dizziness. Stumbling back, arms caught you quickly, holding you in a firm embrace. 

“Hey, I got you. You’re okay,” Bruce murmured, straightening you up. “What’s wrong?" 

"Dizzy.” You waited until the wave had passed then steadied yourself. “I don't…He slipped something into my drink. Only took a sip, but, delayed reaction?" 

"We’ll get down to the cave and take a blood sample. See what it is and make sure you aren’t having any reaction to it.”

You nodded, letting Bruce slip his jacket on over your dress. It was an uncommonly sweet gesture for him, but you appreciated the extra layer against the chill of the cave. 

Bruce took the sample and set it to scan on the computer. You sat on the gurney in the medical area where he’d set you, deciding to wait before going to shower and change. 

You got so lost in your own thoughts that you nearly missed him coming up to take a seat next to you. 

“Computer won’t take long. How you feeling?" 

"No more dizzy spells. Just tired.”

“Good. You were lucky you noticed it.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, staring down at the floor. “I just wish I knew why he did it. Doesn’t make sense.”

“What do you mean?" 

"For all intents and purposes, it was blatantly clear I wanted to go home with him. I put up with all his advances, encouraged them even. Wasn’t like he thought I was going to say no. I told him straight to face that I was his for the night. But he tries to roofie me anyway?”

“Power would be my guess. Gets off in knowing he can do whatever he wants to a partner.”

“God…if I hadn’t been sober I would’ve missed it…” The thought curled in your stomach, the nausea from earlier returning. Bruce placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly. 

“We would’ve known something was wrong the second you left and gotten you out.”

“Not if he’d made a move in the VIP room. People weren’t shying away from it.” Groaning, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I should’ve seen it coming.”

“You did good tonight, Y/N. Not many could’ve done all that and kept it together. Nothing that went wrong was your fault.”

You looked up to meet his eyes and smiled. You weren’t quite sure where this kind and concerned Bruce had come from, but you liked it. Liked him. Maybe more than you should have. “Thank you.”

Bruce smiled, squeezing your shoulder again just as the computer beeped. “Let’s see what he’s using.”

You walked with Bruce, reading over the information. The drug was powerful, one of the newer date rape drugs on the scene, a full dose would leave its victim near immobile and helpless. There was only a trace amount of it in your blood, the computer estimating that it’d be out of your system within an hour. 

“Sick bastards,” you spat, turning away. “They’re just giving this stuff out! North asked for the house red and my drink came spiked! How many…how many have been victims of this? How many weren’t so lucky.”

“We’re going to stop this, Y/N. We’ll take them all down, I promise you." 

Taking a breath, you nodded. "I know. I know. I do. Guess tonight got to me more than I thought.”

Bruce pulling you into a hug was the biggest surprise of the night. In all the months you’d known him he hadn’t once even made an attempt to hug. You leaned into it, letting yourself take a moment to embrace the comfort. 

“Go grab that shower and get changed. I’ll ask Alfred to make us some tea.”

You nodded and pulled back. “Sounds good.” You left the cave, heading up to the guest room that had been designated yours in case you ever needed it. Like tonight. 

The shower in the ensuite was amazing, possibly even better than the one in the cave, and definitely better than your own. You scrubbed yourself down, washing away the stink of cologne and the memory of North’s touch. By the time you were done, you felt a world better. 

You pulled on some spare clothes that were kept in the room, a t-shirt and a pair of sweats and headed back down. The soft sound of conversation came from the parlor so you headed in there, greeted by the side of Alfred in the process of pouring out three cups of tea. 

Bruce was on the sofa, changed out of his suit and into a similar outfit to your own. “Better?" 

"Much.” You took a seat next to him, enjoying the warmth of the roaring fire. 

“Excellent,” Alfred smiled, passing you a cup. 

“Thank you,” accepting it, you took a sip. “You make the best tea.”

“He’s got a secret method he won’t tell anyone." 

"I intend to take it to my grave. Or pass it on to any grandchildren you happen to bless me with, Master Bruce.”

Bruce nearly choked on his tea, the look on his face and the glare he bestowed on Alfred making you laugh. Alfred simply smiled the picture of innocence and sat in the opposite armchair. 

The clock on the mantle began to chime, counting down to midnight. 

It had been a bitch of night, but you were happy to be with them both. It was comfortable and homely, and right, and you realized you never wanted to give this up. Being here, working with Bruce was where you belonged. 

Fireworks started off in the distance, the bright colors shining through the large windows. 

“Happy New Year to you both,” Alfred said, raising his cup. 

“Happy New Year.”

You smiled, clinking your cup with Bruce’s. “Happy New Year.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January is nearly over and you’ve yet to collect the evidence you need to take down the Torn Roses for good. With time running out, a late-night reconnaissance leads to some unexpected events and a decision that could change your life.

The night was dry but cold. The rooftop you lurked on still covered in January snow, making you glad of the insulated suit. Bruce would kill you if he knew you were here. 

After weeks of you working well together, the night had resulted in an argument once again. It seemed your belief that he’d finally learned to trust your instincts was wrong. It was the end of the month, and despite Roman not showing any signs of leaving, something in your gut was telling you otherwise. Bruce had dismissed it, citing the lack of evidence. 

You’d argued, and eventually, you’d stormed off on your own, switching off the coms to stop his bitching. Of course he could’ve followed you. The tracker was still active, but you’d been sitting here long enough to presume that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe he’d decided to let you have space. Or maybe he just really didn’t care. 

Boy did that thought hurt. 

You’d never admit it, but after the last few weeks, the things you’d felt for Bruce had started to change. You’d always known you were similar, but he’d actually opened up since New Year’s Eve and seeing that softer side to him, the one he kept hidden away from everyone…

You’d been dumb enough to think that Bruce had felt the same way. There had been times when you’d caught him looking at you and for a moment had been sure you saw your own developing feelings reflected back. 

But if he did, if that was true, then surely he’d have listened to you? Or at least not immediately dismiss you? What did that say about the kind of relationship you’d have? You couldn’t be with someone who treated you like a child who didn’t know better. 

Movement inside the building you were watching distracted you. 

The whole building belonged to Roman, the lower floors rented out, but the penthouse remained his. The cover was that he used it to take one night stands back to, but you’d discovered its secret use of meetings with North. They were both in there now, you could see them through the tall glass windows, along with the hoard of security both of them traveled with. 

They’d been talking for several hours and still were. The movement that caught your attention was by two of the guards. They were carrying suitcases. Roman’s suitcases. 

Was he leaving? Tonight? Shit. 

Going on instinct, you grappled to the side of the building, grabbing onto the edge of the balcony outside one of the bedrooms. Pulling yourself up a little, you got a look inside. Dark. And empty. Perfect. You hoisted yourself over the balcony rail, landing silently. There were no cameras out there. No need. It was high enough up that no normal person could climb it. No alarm on the glass door leading inside either. You picked the lock easily, sliding the door open and creeping inside. 

You could hear voices as you approached the bedroom door, but they were still slightly too muffled. Pressing a button on the arm of your gauntlet, you spread your hand over the door, the finger pads glowing dark purple as the tech picked up the audio. 

“-thing ready?” North’s voice spoke in your ear. 

“Nearly, sir. These are the last two pieces of luggage, and we’ll be ready to go, Mr. Roman.”

“Excellent,” Roman spoke and you had to fight the urge not to throw up. “I can’t wait to get out of this godforsaken city again.”

North laughed, “I’m almost jealous. I miss the sun.”

“When the time is right, you can join me. In the meantime, you know what to do with the computers?" 

"Yeah. Delete everything that could connect you, destroy them, and burn the place down. We have the decoy in the master bedroom. The official report will state an electrical fault caused a fire, killing you in your sleep.”

“Good. That’ll throw the Bats off their game a little. They’ve been getting too close recently.”

If North said anything else, you’d didn’t hear. You pulled away from the door, making your way back out into the night. Roman was leaving tonight and faking his own death. Any chance of getting justice would be gone. You couldn’t let that happen. 

It was easy, moving around the sides of the building until you found the office. You wanted to stop Roman, but you needed that information first. You couldn’t risk someone managing to damage the computers in a fight. 

There was thankfully a small window leading into the office that you were able to pry open and squeeze through. A laptop and a desktop PC was sitting on the desk, both locked naturally. Not a problem. 

It wasn’t difficult to hack both, your eyes widening when you accessed the litany of files on them. You’d already had enough to take down North for good and to get Roman arrested, but not enough to put him away permanently. With this though…you could destroy the entire operation in one strike. Pulling a USB from your belt, you plugged it in and copied everything from both computers onto it. You hadn’t expected him to keep such sensitive info here, but maybe that’s exactly why he did. 

You moved back to the door, listening through it once more. They were still there, but getting ready to leave. You contemplated signaling Bruce for backup. But by the time he got here they’d be gone, and that’d make it all the trickier. And a part of you wanted to do this by yourself, prove to him that you were more than capable. You did message Gordon with your location though and told him to get there with cops ASAP. 

You straightened, pulling a smoke grenade from your belt. From your observations outside there were seven other men in the room besides Roman and North. All armed you had to presume. You’d need to be quick. 

Footsteps approached and stopped outside the door. 

Now or never. 

You opened the door, throwing the grenade into the room as you grabbed the man in front of you and took him down. Smoke filled the room in the same instant as guns began to fire. You grunted in pain when a bullet hit your chest, lodging itself into the armor. That was going to bruise. 

Moving quickly in the smoke, you dodged the rest and downed each guard. The barrel of a gun pressed to your head. You ducked, turning, the crack of an arm breaking and North yelling echoing around the living room. Bringing your fist to his face, he slumped to the floor unconscious. 

The smoke was starting to clear. A single shot sent you stumbling as it hit you square in the back. Spinning around, Roman was the only one left standing, aiming a pistol at you. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, you grabbed a Batarang, throwing it through the air and watching it lodge in his hand. He screamed and the gun clattered down. You followed swiftly after the Batarang, leaping over the fancy coffee table, and landing a punch to his gut. Roman doubled over and you brought an elbow down on his back, sending him to the floor. 

You were on him in a flash, fists coming down over and over. Blood streamed from his nose as the cartridge crunched and broke under the impacts. 

Finally. After years of pain and waiting you had him. Anger, hate, grief, flooded your system. God, you wanted him dead. Wanted to keep punching until he stopped moving under you. He deserved it. After all the pain and suffering he’d caused to you and Gotham. 

Justice, not vengeance. 

You heard Bruce’s voice in your head. You’d never killed but that had still been the first lesson he’d taught you. The one he’d repeat when some scumbag got under your skin a little too much. The one you’d come to understand, to follow, no matter how much your anger roared otherwise. 

You pulled back, flipping Roman’s unconscious body onto his stomach and tying his hands securely behind his back. You repeated the process on all the others. A glance at the time said Gordon would be here any moment. 

A muffled shout came from the master bedroom. Leaping over the sofa, you unlocked the door and entered. Tied to the bed were two people. A man and a woman. The man didn’t look too much like Roman, but he shared his build, and after a fire, you could see how he could be mistaken for Roman. Especially once a few palms were greased. The woman was attractive, someone you’d come to know Roman would be attracted to. Another part of the ploy.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” you said softly, removing their gags and making short work of their bonds. “The police will be here soon.”

As if on cue, the door burst in and Gordon and several uniformed officers came barging in, guns drawn. 

Gordon looked around the disaster area, spotting Roman groaning weakly. “Curt Roman? The hell is goin’ on here?!” He asked, lowering his weapon as you approached. 

You pointed at two cops and gestured to the bedroom first, “There are civilians in there that may need medical attention,” you said, before turning your attention to Gordon. “Curt Roman is the secret leader of the gang The Torn Rose. Mr. North here,” you nudged North with your boot, “is his frontman, but Roman is the brains of the operation.”

Gordon frowned at your explanation, “You got evidence of this?" 

"This way, Commissioner.” You led him to the office where the computers were still intact and showed him all the files. 

“Jesus. They’re responsible for half the drug trafficking in the City.”

“Yeah.”

Gordon stood straight and looked at you. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”

“Good. Make sure they all go away for a long time. They’ve hurt a lot of people.”

“I will.” Exiting the office you watched as Roman and North were hauled away in cuffs. “Gotta say it was a surprise to get the alert from you and not Batman,” Gordon went on. “Even more of a surprise that he ain’t here with you.”

“I’ve been shadowing him a year now. About time I took on my own cases, wouldn’t you say?" 

"Never figured him to be someone who’s okay with letting someone else take charge, but I guess you know him better than I do.”

You wished you could say that was true. 

The rest of the guards were escorted out, and the relief you’d felt was slowly being replaced with dread creeping up your spine. Bruce would’ve heard about this by now. Honestly, a part of you was surprised he hadn’t shown up anyway. But it meant he’d be in the cave. Waiting for you to get back. With luck, he’d actually be happy you’d taken the whole gang down. 

Yeah right. 

~

“What the hell do you think you were doing?!” Bruce yelled the second you stepped foot into the cave.

“Oh, I don’t know, taking down an entire crime ring perhaps? You know, the one you promised to help me with?” Arms crossed over your chest, you stared Bruce down, unwilling to back down or apologize. 

“I was helping! You’re the one deviated from the plan!" 

"Because Roman was leaving! I have the audio to prove it!" 

Bruce’s jaw clenched for a second. "Congratulations. You got one man. Who’ll be out of jail in a week because we don’t have the evidence to put him away for good! Then he really will leave and we’ll be back to square one!" 

You flung the USB drive across the gap. Bruce caught it easily. "That’s a copy of everything on their computers. Computers now in Gordon’s possession. I’m pretty sure what’s on there is enough to send Roman, North, and every single person involved down for a couple lifetimes! I know because I checked. Before I took them down.”

You watched as Bruce put the USB into the computer, and flicked through all the documents and information. He was silent for a minute.

Bruce clicked off and turned back to face you. If he was feeling remorse, it didn’t show on his face. “Good. They’ll get what they deserve.”

“That it?" 

"What else do you want me to say? You still deviated from my orders, and not only that, you went into a dangerous situation alone, without even as much as alerting me!" 

You scoffed. "So I’m still in the wrong? If you were so concerned why didn’t you show up when you heard the police radio?" 

"That wouldn’t exactly look good for the unified front we’ve been putting on would it?" 

You rolled your eyes, the action hidden behind the lens of your cowl. 

"You’re benched.”

The cave seemed to fall silent at Bruce’s words. 

“What?" 

"You’re benched, Y/N, until I know I can trust you.”

You scoffed, “You can’t trust me? We’ve been together a year.”

“Yet you still went behind my back. And I heard the state on Roman. We both know he’s no fighter. You lost control. You could’ve killed him.”

“Could’ve, but didn’t. You know what he did!" 

"I do, but we can’t let our emotions dictate how we act. You chose to enact your vengeance, and that’s not what we do. You should know better by now.”

“Bastard,” you spat, coming to a decision. 

Bruce actually looked surprised. 

The sound of your cowl rolling across the floor echoed around the cave until it stopped by Bruce’s feet. 

He looked at it, then at you, and frowned. “What?" 

"I quit.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curt Roman and his operation have been stopped, but that doesn’t mean everything is fine. A glimpse into Bruce’s mind reveals what he really thinks, but with a new threat on the horizon, there’s no time for feelings.

“I quit.” Y/N’s words reverberated off the stone walls. 

“What?” He snapped the question a second time. 

“I quit, Bruce. I’m done taking your bullshit and being treated like a child. I wanted to be your partner, wanted to help you help Gotham, but…I can’t do this. I cant…I won’t stand here and let you continuously treat me like your inferior. I set out to take down Roman, and now I’ve done that. I don’t need this now. I don’t need you.”

If he had a little less control he would’ve flinched at that. Bruce had seen Y/N angry before. Had seen her blood-boilingly furious. The kind of rage that made common thugs wet themselves. This wasn’t that anger. This was the calm, ice-cold fury that roared in the blood but was only discernable in the eyes. He knew it well. Used it to his advantage. He’d never seen it in her though. Didn’t even know she was capable of it. 

Perhaps he had been too controlling, but she had been foolish. It was his job to mentor her, and if she’d been killed then that was on him. If she couldn’t handle the way he did things… 

“Then go,” he said evenly. 

A sharp inhale was the only reaction to betray her shock at his dismissal. It was an impressive show of self-control. 

“Fine.” Her voice was calm, unshaken. “Goodbye, Bruce.” With that, Y/N turned sharply on her heels and walked away to take the suit off for a final time. 

“Go after her!” Alfred was next to him the second she was out of earshot. “You can’t let her leave!" 

"I can, and I am, Alfred,” Bruce said, turning away and sitting in front of the computer. 

“Well, I will not.”

Alfred’s footsteps soon retreated in the same direction as Y/N’s, leaving Bruce alone at the computer. He pulled open the files that Y/N had brought home with her again and read them over as he plotted the next step. Roman and North would go down, and without the heads, the operation would soon crumble, but it would leave a lot of dangerous criminals roaming the streets with no one to keep them in check. At least they had names. There was no way Gordon would be able to track them all down, but he could do it. Though, it would’ve been easier with two…

“Ms. Y/L/N has left, sir.” Alfred was back at his side, hands clasped behind his back, face the perfect picture of stoicism. If Bruce didn’t know him so well he would’ve missed just how mad Alfred secretly was. “I tried to convince her to stay and try again, but she was adamant that she would only return if you apologized. Can’t say I blame her.”

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She went against my direct instructions.”

“And it was a good thing she did. You have a great many talents Master Bruce, but the ability to listen to another’s instincts is not amongst them, and that nearly led to losing one of the biggest criminals in Gotham.”

Bruce didn’t reply, instead silently clicking through the documents to organize them.

“And your inability to admit when you are wrong has led you to lose your partner.”

“I don’t need a partner. I have you and Lucius.”

“Neither of us can protect you in the field, Bruce, we can only watch on.”

“I don’t need protection! Not by Y/N! I was the one who should’ve been protecting her!” Bruce turned the chair, finally looking fully looking up at Alfred. “North has already come too close to hurting her once, if he, or Roman, or anyone had hurt her tonight…” he trailed off, leaving the fact that he would never have forgiven himself left unsaid.

Alfred’s features softened as he sighed. “I know you care for her, Bruce. I’ve seen the way you look at her, saw how angry you were New Year’s Eve when the plan went awry, and I think that’s the very reason for this unyielding protectiveness and control.”

He begrudged to admit it, but Alfred was right. Over the last year, his feelings for Y/N had changed from mere protege to…to more. He hadn’t even realized until the night of the party when she’d gone dark in the VIP lounge. It had taken all of his self-control not to hack the systems and evacuate the place just to get her out. And then she’d said how North had tried to drug her…he’d been angrier at himself for letting her into that position. 

Alfred must’ve seen it on his face because he smiled. “Perhaps you should consider telling her? If I’m not mistaken those feelings are returned, and maybe a heart to heart will begin to mend things.”

It was a tempting idea, and not the first time it had crossed his mind.

Bruce shook his head. “I can’t Alfred. I’m meant to be Y/N’s mentor, it would be inappropriate to even risk taking advantage.”

“I think Ms. Y/N has more than proved she doesn’t need mentoring anymore.”

“And she’s young.”

“Younger. The gap between you is the opposite of inappropriate.”

Bruce sighed again and looked away. He could continue listing reasons, and Alfred would simply continue countering them with things he already knew. 

“Talk to her, Bruce.”

“No.” Bruce stood, walking away from the computer. “It was her choice to quit. Her choice to leave. I won’t ask her to come back, and I won’t muddle the matter with feelings.”

“Bruce-”

“Enough, Alfred. Y/N’s gone, she won’t come back, and I won’t sit here and dwell on it.”

~

_One Month Later_

The last of the winter snow had finally melted away, though a chill still hung in the air. Bruce crouched atop a high rooftop, looking out across the twinkling lights of the city. The suit insulated him from the icy wind that bit through to the bone up here, yet still he felt cold, not just in his bones, but deeper like it had penetrated his very soul.

He knew the reason for it. Knew how to fix it. And refused to take that step. It would ease, he told himself. It had only been a month. Eventually, it would start to melt away. 

“Sir?” Alfred speaking through his coms pulled Bruce from his thoughts. 

“Here.”

“Sir, drones have picked up activity at the old steel mill. It seems our Arkham escapee is using it as a hideout.”

Bruce was already grappling off the rooftop. “I’ll check it out.”

“If I may, perhaps back-up would be useful? Given his unpredictability, you might not find what you’re expecting.”

Bruce grunted, landing on the ground next to the Batmobile. “No.”

“Master Bruce…”

“No, Alfred. I can handle this alone.” Leaping into the driver’s seat, he took off at full speed, turning sharply around the corners. In his ear, he heard Alfred sigh but didn’t push the topic. Bruce was grateful. Alfred may have been right, someone watching his back would’ve been better in this situation, but he wasn’t going to cave so easily. 

He parked the Batmobile a little way from the abandoned mill and grappled the rest of the way. Hiding in the shadows of one of the old warehouses nearby, he observed the mill. It seemed quiet. No thugs patrolled the perimeter, even the security cameras hadn’t been enabled. It would be far too easy to walk straight in. 

A trap. That much was painfully clear. And he had no idea what kind of trap, what would be waiting for him inside. 

He grappled to one of the higher floors and broke in through a window. An old office. 

He kept low as he moved through the building. It was completely dark which meant keeping to the shadows was no problem, but only increased the trepidation in the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t their usual M.O. Usually, there’d be lights and theatrics and armies of armed goons to fight through. Not this silence. 

The clang and screech of metal hitting metal echoed down from the main floor. It was impossible for his presence to have been detected, so someone involved in this trap had messed up. 

Bruce took the unconventional route down, ensuring his location remained unknown. Breaking open the vent, he silently dropped down onto the railings above the empty factory floor. The machines had long been dismantled and removed, leaving just a large expanse of metal below. Moonlight filtered in through one of the skylights that served as a window, casting the room in shadows. 

There was still no sign of anyone. Bruce began to think that their surveillance had been off, or perhaps the one he was after had simply led him on a wild goose chase. That wouldn’t be unlike him. 

He jumped over the rails, landing on the floor to look for clues. 

The second he did a hissing filled the room, thick foul smell gas clouds following it. Bruce choked as he breathed it in. The vents. Someone had reversed them. Instead of extracting harmful chemicals they were now pumping them in. 

His eyes began to burn behind the white lenses, the ability to breathe getting rapidly worse. 

He had to get out. 

He aimed his grapple at one of the skylights, the most direct escape. 

A hard blow from behind sent him across the room, knocking the device out of his grip in the process. He fit the floor awkwardly, wincing as his shoulder hit the metal despite the suit taking the brunt of the impact. He rolled back onto his feet immediately, regretting the decision when the room span around him. He coughed violently, the edges of his vision starting to blur.

Bruce hit a button on his gauntlet and dropped to his knees as the world darkened, body caught between trying to hack up the odious gas and suck in precious air. 

A giant figure emerged from the clouds, looming over him and laughing. 

It was the last thing he saw before everything went black. 

~

_“Helloooo Gotham!! Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘oh no last time he hijacked the networks he threatened to blow up the city!’ Well fear not! You’re all safe! This time! Nooo! No bombs, or chemicals, or nasty little tricks today! No destruction or death! Not for you lot anyway!"_

_"Wake up, Bats! Say a 'hello’ to the folks at home. No? Still a little sleepy are we? Aww, sorry, Gotham! But don’t worry! I’ll make sure he’s wide awake and ready for tomorrow’s grand show! Yes, that’s right! In twenty-four hours I invite you all to watch the greatest, most spectacular show Gotham’s ever seen! And Bats here, he’s gonna be the star.”_

_“So set the date! Don’t be late!"_

_"For the Death of Batman!"_

_"Hahahahahahahahahahaha!”_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce has been captured. Joker has threatened to kill him. Only you can save him. It’s been over a month since you left Bruce and the vigilante business behind, but an unexpected threats forces you back in, and leads you to your toughest battle yet

_"Helloooo Gotham!!” Joker’s face took up the screen, eyes bright and wild as he looked directly down the lens. “Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘oh no last time he hijacked all major networks he threatened to blow up the city!’ Well fear not! You’re all safe! This time!" **  
**_

_He pulled back slightly, arms waving and gesticulating as he spoke. "Nooo! No bombs, or chemicals, or nasty little tricks today! No destruction or death! Not for you lot anyway!” Joker stepped back to reveal the figure tied up behind him._

_Batman._

_Joker moved quickly, delivering a swift sharp slap to Batman’s face. Batman groaned, muscles flexing against the restraints but otherwise stayed unresponsive. “Wake up, Bats! Say a 'hello’ to the folks at home. No? Still a little sleepy are we? Aww, sorry Gotham! But don’t worry! I’ll make sure he’s wide awake and ready for tomorrow’s grand show!"_

_"Yes that’s right! In twenty-four hours I invite you all to watch the greatest, most spectacular show Gotham’s ever seen!” Moving behind Batman as he spoke, Joker pushed the chair forwards, the metal screeching as it went. “And Bats here, he’s gonna be the star.”_

_With both their faces now taking up the screen, Joker’s grin spread wide, teeth showing. “So set the date! Don’t be late!"_

_"For the Death of Batman!"_

_"Hahahahahahahahahahaha!”_

The broadcast went dead. 

For a second you stood still. You clicked the TV off, grabbed your things and left. You knew what needed to be done. 

~

“This is another trap,” Alfred said as he walked with you down to the cave. “Joker wants to lure you in and kill you too.”

“I know, Alfred, but I can’t stand back and let him kill Bruce either, and I don’t believe you really want me to.”

“Of course I want him back. Seeing him like that…I’ve not felt that way since his parents died. Yet I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if Joker took your life too.”

You stopped on the cave floor and turned to face the older man with a soft smile. “He won’t. I’m going to go in, stop Joker and bring Bruce home, I promise.”

Alfred still looked concerned, but he returned your smile as he nodded. Steeling himself, he turned towards the computer. “Before he went black Master Bruce activated his tracking signal. It’s still reading him at the steel mill.”

Nodding, you looked over the schematics that Alfred pulled up, committing them to memory. “It’s a large area, and the video was dark, but Joker would’ve only been able to hack into the TV networks from here, here, or here,” you pointed out the areas on the map. “Gives me a good starting point.”

You left the computer, moving quickly to change. It was strange, holding the cowl after a month. You’d convinced yourself that you’d near wear any of it again. A part of you was still surprised that Bruce had even kept it. Sentimental? Probably not. More like to have it ready for the next little bat he found roaming. Yeah. That thought you did not like.

You pushed it aside for now. If this didn’t have your full attention you really would end up dead. It would be a lie to say you weren’t petrified. You’d only gone up against Joker once and even then Bruce had done most of the work, ordering you to hang back and only jump in if he really needed the aid. That night had been terrifying, with traps and thugs and danger lurking around every corner, getting worse with every step, yet Bruce managed to capture Joker successfully. Which meant that he must’ve upped his game to get him now. 

You wondered if you really did have the skill to save Bruce. 

“Ms. Y/N?” Alfred spoke softly from the doorway, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Mr. Fox is here, he has some prototypes you might find useful.”

“Great.” You tucked the cowl under your arm and followed Alfred out and back into the main area of the cave, greeting Lucius with a handshake and a tense smile. 

Lucius walked you through the tech he had, most of it were small upgrades to things Bruce already used, but he did have one brand new prototype. 'Bat Stunner’ he’d named it, or an EMP mine. They were small things that fit into your hand, perfect for knocking out electrical devices or knocking out enemies. They’d been something you’d suggested before you left, but you had no idea he’d actually been working on it. You got the feeling they were going to come in handy. 

After Lucius was done explaining everything, you loaded the items into the belt, and were ready. 

“Bring him home,” Lucius said, giving you a hug. 

“I will. Thank you for the help,” you smiled, returning the hug before looking to Alfred. “We’ll both see you soon.”

“I know. Bruce trained you well, Y/N. If anyone can stop Joker, it’s you.”

~

The area surrounding the Batmobile was quiet. There’d been two guys trying to break into it when you arrived, but they were only lowlife thugs looking to make a quick buck, and had bolted the moment you made your presence known. They weren’t who you needed. Other than them, nothing. 

You scouted quietly, spotting a window of the steel mill that was open. That was how Bruce got in. There was no movement, no lights. The place looked deserted. You knew better. Swinging over to the mill, you entered through the same window and landed on the carpet silently. Everything was too quiet, which spelled trap with a capital ’T’. 

Moving quickly but quietly through the empty factory, you checked out two of the areas Joker could’ve been broadcasting from. Nothing. You weren’t surprised. Those areas didn’t leave any room for tricks or traps and had too much potential for a sneak attack. Not Jokers style at all. The final spot was the manager’s office. To get to it you needed to cross a walkway high above the main floor. The metal creaked under your feet, but there was no sign of danger. The door to the office was open, but you could see nothing inside. 

You started inching your way across, choosing each step carefully to avoid any noise. 

You were halfway when floodlights came on, blinding you for a moment. Shielding your eyes from the sudden brightness, you nearly missed the quiet ticking. You leaped over the edge a second before the walkway blew, landing on the hard ground below and rolling to avoid the debris. 

Over the ringing in your ears you heard the screech of speakers coming to life. 

“Finally! I was starting to think the baby bat wasn’t going to show up!” Joker’s voice crackled through them, hurting your ears more than the explosion. “And who would’ve appreciated all my hard work then? Batsy?! He’s not appreciated me a day in his life!" 

Straightening yourself up, you looked at what was left of the walkway before up to the door of the office. Joker stood there in all his glory, microphone in one hand, and a small remote in the other. 

"Where is he, Joker?!" 

"What, no 'hello Joker’ or 'how are you Joker?’ No 'nice to see you?’ After I’ve gone through all this trouble! You Bats are all alike! Well, if you must know-” Joker clicked a button on the remote, and several large TV’s that had been installed along the walls came on. Bruce was on all of them. Some of them were from a distance, showing him still restrained. Others were close-ups of his face. The mask was still on, thankfully, but there were dark veins spreading up his neck and from the corners of his mouth. 

“What did you do to him?!" 

"Oh that? Just a little concoction I came up with! Something painful. And sloooow. Slow enough that he’ll last 'til his grandshow! And more than slow enough for him to watch his precious baby bat die! Ooohoohoohoo!" 

"I won’t let that happen!” You grabbed your grapple gun, aiming it for the ledge at Joker’s feet. 

A chunk of metal debris hurled itself at you, sending you skidding across the room. Joker laughed again, the sound echoing off the walls. “Let me introduce you to my partner!" 

"I would not say 'partner.” A deeper voice with a thick accent spoke, and your blood ran cold. You’d never encountered the man, but Bruce had shown you video footage. You pulled yourself out from under the debris and rose to your feet. 

Bane. 

“I do not enjoy these theatrics, but the clown offered me the chance to see Batman dead if I killed his protégé, and that was an offer I could not resist,” he said as he stalked towards you. 

“You sound sure that you can kill me.” Your voice was more confident than you felt, which was something. “Batman trained me and he has always found a way to beat you.”

“Then it is time to test your worth. See if you are as skilled as your mentor.”

Bane lunged towards you in the same moment as you dropped a smoke pellet. You grappled onto the remnants of the walkway, using the momentum to fling yourself over and land on the opposite end of the room to Bane. You needed to buy yourself time. It was impossible to take him in a physical fight. He’d break you in half. You needed a strategy, nothing Bruce had ever done would work now, plus Bane would see it coming. You needed something new. 

Starting with damaging the tank that controlled his Venom. He’d yet to inject it, but if he did…

The smoke was starting to clear and you could see his figure looming through it. Another piece of debris came flying at you but this time you dodged it, leaping to the side and rolling back to your feet. A batarang in hand you threw it at him. It landed in his shoulder, barely making him stumble. But the second he took to pull it out was all you needed. You sprinted towards him, using the debris to propel yourself over him. 

Bane caught your ankle, swinging you around and slamming you back into the ground. His grip still death tight, Bane threw you across the floor, letting your body slam into the metal wall. 

Joker laughed around you as pain burst along your back. 

“Round one gooooes to Bane!” He cackled. 

Spitting blood you pulled yourself back up. Bane was already charging at you again. You ran towards him, making it seem as though you planned to leap over him a second time. Bane grabbed at you just as you threw yourself down, sliding along the floor between his legs. You were on your feet in a heartbeat, jumping onto Banes back. 

The batarang sliced through the pipes, the vicious green liquid spurting everywhere. 

Bane yelled, reaching behind him to try and catch you, but you used his back to force yourself off him, diving out of his reach. 

He turned to face you, looking down at the venom spilling uselessly to the floor. “Well done. But I do not need it to defeat you.”

You didn’t doubt him. If he caught you a few more times you’d be done for. At least one problem was dealt with. 

“And baby Bats takes round two! Who’d'a thunk it? Got anything to say, Batsy? No? Shame.”

The back and forth seemed to go on forever. Bane would try to strike and you’d dodge, the two of you dancing over the abandoned floor. You managed to get a few strikes in with your batarangs, but they barely made a difference. Not compared to the times he hit you. Your suit was torn now, in several places, blood trickling from the broken material. 

“Get a move on, Bane! We’ve got a schedule to keep!" 

"Quiet, clown,” Bane growled as he glared up at Joker, then turned his attention back to you. “You’ve shown admirable stamina, but you cannot win this fight. Give up now and I will grant you the mercy of a quick death.”

“No.” Reaching to your belt you found that you were almost out of everything. All you had were some batarangs and…the stunners. 

One wasn’t enough to take him down. But you had an idea. 

Keeping yourself moving you scanned the ceiling of the factory, trying to remember the schematics Alfred had shown you. 

There. 

Water sprinklers. If the lights of the factory still worked then hopefully they were functional too… 

The batarang pierced the pipes and water burst out of them. You threw more in quick succession until it was pouring down and thrumming against the metal. The water seeped under your feet as you came to a standstill, letting Bane stalk under the spray towards you. It seemed he had no idea what you planned. 

The metal stunners landed with a splash at Bane’s feet. The electricity sparked and crackled as it shot across the water. And his body. Bane yelled, dropping to his knees. 

You walked calmly towards him, over the electrified water, the rubber boots protecting you from its harm, and stood above him. You said nothing, but your eyes met briefly and you knew Bane realized he was beaten. 

The shockers died, and with it, Bane passed out, slumping to the ground in a heap. 

You spared a second to check his pulse, still steady, and looked up at the Joker. 

“It’s over, Joker!” You yelled, the grapple hook digging into the surface beneath his feet. 

“Oh, don't’cha know? It ain’t over til the fat bat sings!” With that, Joker took off back inside the office, disappearing through a set of double doors just as you landed in the room. 

Ignoring the instinct to look for Bruce, you set off at a run after Joker, bursting through the doors and onto another walkway. Below were empty vats that once contained Lord knew what, but more importantly, the room led to a dead end. 

“You can’t escape! Give yourself up!” You shouted at his back as he came to a standstill. 

“Oohoohoo! When has it ever been that easy, baby?” He asked, spinning around and firing a gun at your chest. 

You grunted in pain as the bullet embedded itself in the kevlar, the force knocking you back a couple of steps. Joker released several more and you pushed through it to continue advancing on him. 

“Stop, Joker.” You reached him, grabbing the gun and wrestling it from his grip. Joker pushed back against you, the momentum letting him force you both around so he was closest to the exit. 

You tossed the gun over the edge and set off at a run over the creaking metal. Joker tried to block your fist so you brought the other up, the blow landing in his stomach and sending him reeling. It was followed by the original fist connecting with his jaw. 

Joker laughed, wiping away the blood on the back of a dirty purple sleeve. “Oooo Batsy has been training you well! He’ll be ever so proud! If he survives! Hahahahahah-" 

You shut him up with another fist, sweeping his legs out from under him. He fell, but as he did, a knife came from nowhere, slashing at your calves. The pain sliced through, and taking his moment Joker kicked the hurt leg. 

He was on you before you could stop him, using a surprising strength to haul you over the edge and sending you down into the vats. 

You grappled to safety just before you hit metal, and sprinted back through the office after him. You found him up some stairs that led to a better observation area of the factory floors. He stood behind Bruce, maniacal grin on his face as he aimed a second gun at Bruce’s temple. 

"Ah ah ah! Another step and we’ll find out what really goes on in this messed up brain of his!" 

Swallowing, you called his bluff and took a step forward. "You want him to watch me die. Killing him now will ruin your big plan.” Your hand inched slowly behind your back as you spoke, finding the last of the batarangs. 

“Hmm true. Though making you watch him die would be just as fun! Which shall it be? How shall we decide? I know! Eeny-” He pressed the gun harder against Bruce’s temple, “meeny,” he aimed at your head, “miny,” back to Bruce, “ _mo_." 

Before he could squeeze the trigger you threw the batarang. Joker yelled as it shot through his hand, the gun clattering to the floor. You moved quickly, using Bruce’s chair to swing yourself around and land a kick to Joker’s chest. He went stumbling backward and you were on him. He opened his mouth for a final smart remark, but you refused to grant it to him. 

Knocking him out, you removed the cuffs from your belt and made short work of trapping his hands behind his back. 

"Gordon. I need you at the old steel mill. I’ve got Joker and Bane in custody,” you said after activating your coms. You heaved Joker’s body up and used the grapple hook to swing you both down to main the floor, dumping him next to Bane’s still unconscious form. 

“We’re on our way. Batman?" 

Swinging back to the office, you approached Bruce. "Yeah. I’ve got him too.” Shutting off the coms, you picked up Joker’s discarded knife. “B? Can you hear me?” You asked, kneeling in front of him to cut the bonds. 

Bruce groaned, but gave no further response. 

You tapped the button on his gauntlet that called the Batmobile to your location and tried not to think about how the veins on his neck were looking worse. “I’m going to get you home, and we’ll have this fixed in no time, alright?" 

Another groan. 

You hooked an arm over your shoulder, and used it to hoist Bruce to his feet, gritting your teeth as you had to support most of his weight. It was slow progress, making it back to the door, but you did, and by some miracle, you managed to get you both back down in one piece. 

Just as you did Gordon and a hoard of cops came barging in, the Commissioner spending a moment to take in the scene before ordering the rest to get Bane and Joker secure. 

"Good work,” he said, coming to join you and helping you support Bruce as you walked back out to the awaiting Batmobile. “He gonna be okay?” He asked once Bruce was safely inside the vehicle. 

“I’ll make sure he is.” You jumped into the Batmobile and took off, speeding back to the cave. “Alfred, get the medbay ready and set-up the computer. We’re going to need to analyse Bruce’s blood immediately.”

“Right away. Are you both okay? You were silent for so long…”

“We will be. As long as we move quickly.”

“I’ll have everything prepared.”

Alfred’s side of the line went dead, and you spared a glance towards Bruce as you spend through Gotham’s streets. “We’re nearly there, Bruce. Keep holding on.”

“Y/N…” The word almost made you jump, it being more than anything he’d done so far. You hated how weak his voice sounded. “You…I…”

“Save your strength. There’ll be time for talking when you’re well, yeah?" 

From the corner of your eye you caught Bruce nod and fall back into silence, the only sound the roaring of the engine and his labored breathing. 

Racing along the track towards the cave, you squashed down the fear that threatened to rise. 

"You’ll be okay, Bruce. You have to be.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bane and Joker have been defeated, and Bruce brought back home. Now that the dust has settled, how will the story end?

Bruce groaned as he was dragged back to wakefulness. He wasn't particularly sore, but he felt like he'd run several marathons in succession with a deadweight on his back.

"Master Bruce?"

Opening his eyes, Bruce smiled wearily up at Alfred. He could see now that they were in the medbay of the Batcave. "How long have I been out?" He asked, pushing himself up so he was sitting on the small bed.

"Nearly three days, sir. Do take it easy, please. Ms. Y/N cautioned that you would need rest still."

Y/N. The last thing he remembered was her and Gordon getting him into the Batmobile. He had no idea how hurt she was. "Where is she? Is she okay?"

"She's fine, sir." Alfred's face said he disagreed with that statement, "I would have liked her to stay longer for observation, but once we had synthesized and administered the antidote and were sure that you'd be fine, she insisted on returning home."

"She...stayed?"

Alfred smiled gently and nodded. "Ms. Y/N sat by your side until Joker's poison was out of your system and your vitals stabilized. I did suggest she at least get some sleep in her guest bedroom, but she really is quite stubborn. Reminds me of someone else I know."

Bruce managed a quiet chuckle. "I'm surprised."

"I'm not." Alfred sat on the chair next to the bed as he looked at him. "She loves you, Bruce."

"No. Alfred, after the way I treated her, she can't."

"Y/N volunteered to go after you. Volunteered to risk her life."

"Of course she did. She's a good person and the only one with the training to take down Joker. It's no indication of feelings."

"Perhaps, but you don't sit by the side of someone you hate either. And the way she looked at you…I've only ever seen that look once before."

"Where?"

"Your mother. Before you were born Thomas was in quite the bad car accident, and when we arrived at the hospital he was still unconscious from surgery. The Doctor assured that he'd be alright, but the look on your mother's face as we waited for him to wake up...the concern, the love, the fear that something might still go wrong, it was the same look Y/N had."

Bruce looked away, processing Alfred's words. The older man wouldn't lie to him, if he said Y/N had that look then she did. But it didn't make sense. After the way he'd treated her, she shouldn't feel anything for him at all. For the first time in years, he felt unsure. "What do I do, Al?"

"Go and talk to her. Apologize and she'll hear you out. I'm sure of it."

Bruce nodded. "Okay."

~

The apartment was quiet when there was a knock on the door. You decided immediately to ignore it. You weren't quite up for visitors, plus you couldn't really open the door in your current state. Dressed in just a tank top and shorts, you were in the middle of changing the dressings on some of your injuries, and that would be difficult to explain away.

"Y/N?" That made you stop. Bruce.

You moved to the door, limping a little as you favored the leg Joker had sliced and unlocked it. Even though you'd known he'd be fine, you couldn't stop the relief at seeing Bruce standing on his own volition in the hallway. He looked tired, but the ugly dark veins were gone and he appeared to be mostly back to his regular self. You caught him doing a once over of your own body, no doubt cataloging and analyzing every bandage, scratch, and ugly colored bruise. His eyes lingered for a second at the bruise that spread over the edge of your tank, from where one of Joker's bullets had tried to reach your heart.

"How are you?" You asked, stepping aside to let Bruce in before shutting the door behind him again.

"I'm okay. I feel like I'm the one who should be asking you that though," he said, watching as you walked back to the dining table and all the medical supplies that were spread out on it.

"I'm fine." You propped your leg up and bent to start peeling the old bandage off, grimacing as the movement tugged at your bruised ribs.

"Yeah. You look it. Here, let me." Bruce shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair, before kneeling in front of you. You didn't argue, instead letting him bat your hands away and leaning back.

Bruce's hands were gentle as he worked, carefully removing the bandage and gauze that lay over the injury. "This'll scar," he said, inspecting it.

"Had to start my collection sometime."

Bruce looked up at you, expression the closest you'd ever seen to pained, then resumed his focus on redressing the wound. The silence was awkward, but the act strangely intimate. Bruce's fingers brushed against your skin, ghosting over some of the bruises. You swallowed, unsure of what to do exactly. You'd expected to hear from him. A phone call, or maybe just a gift left at your door, but not him showing up. Not him kneeling in front of you, touching you so delicately as though he feared you might break.

"Why are you here, Bruce?" you asked quietly.

The question seemed to snap him out of his daze. Bruce cleared his throat and quickly stood back up. "I just…I wanted to say thank you. For coming for me."

"You didn't think I would?"

"I knew you would. A part of me hoped you wouldn't."

"Because you thought I wasn't good enough."

"No!" Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slumped heavily in the chair opposite you, and the guilt crept in for jumping down his throat so quickly.

"Then why?"

"Because it was Joker. And Bane, of all people. Y/N the first time I faced him I barely made it out alive and I had more than a year of training. I would've rather died than watch him break you. I watched you on those cameras, and I could feel the poison burn me from the inside out, but seeing him hurt you? That was even worse."

The admission took you by surprise. Sure, you knew Bruce wouldn't want you to get hurt. Despite everything that had happened between you both he was still a good person that'd rather be hurt than watch another hurt, for him to say it was worse than dying? That was unexpected. "Bruce-"

"But you were magnificent, Y/N. How you defeated Bane…I couldn't have done it better myself. It was clever and skilled, and I knew that if Joker got his way and I did die, that Gotham would still be okay. Because it'd have you."

You shook your head. "I was petrified the whole time. I…I didn't feel magnificent. I barely felt competent."

"That just makes you braver. To do something even when you're scared, it's what makes you a hero."

"I...thank you."

Bruce offered you a small smile. "That's the second reason I came over. I needed to thank you, but also to apologize. I was out of line the last time we spoke. I should've trusted in your decisions and I was wrong to try and bench you like a disobedient child. I'm sorry."

Today was a day of firsts, it seemed. You'd never heard him outright apologize before. "Apology accepted."

Bruce nodded, but the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. He wasn't done. Just steeling himself up for something more. "It doesn't justify anything, but the reason I acted like that...I wanted to keep you as a student. Because if that's what you were, if I was a teacher, not a partner, I could continue denying things. I could deny how I felt, feel, about you."

"How do you feel?" You asked voice barely a whisper.

"I love you."

Breath catching, you simply stared at him. You'd suspected once that he had feelings, but after the way he'd been that night, you were sure you'd been wrong. You should've known better, you thought. It was entirely Bruce's style to hide how he was feeling in the worst possible way. The emotionally constipated asshole that he was.

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I understand if you don't feel the same way, or if you hate me. I deserve it. Alfred insisted I say something, he said-"

"I love you too." You cut him off before he could ramble any further.

Bruce looked hopeful and you couldn't help the way your heart jumped. "You do?"

"Yeah."

Bruce smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with it. He was genuinely happy and it was a special feeling knowing that you were the cause of it. You met him halfway as he stood, arms wrapping around his shoulders, Bruce's finding their way to your waist. His lips met yours, the kiss slow but firey.

You broke apart, Bruce resting his forehead against yours, the little smile that made his eyes crinkle back, hands running up and down your sides gently. "I really do love you."

"And I love you."

Another kiss and Bruce stepped back, pulling his phone from his pocket. "I've got something to show you." He spent a moment, then passed the device to you.

It was your suit on the screen. Or something similar to your suit at least. The design was almost identical, but the coloring was different, as was the symbol on the chest. It was no longer a bat.

"I asked Lucius to start designing it. Needs your final approval, of course, but I wanted to do something to show I'm serious. It's time you step out from my shadow, Y/N."

"This your way of asking me to come back?"

"It is. As partners."

"As partners. I love it, Bruce." Handing the phone back, you hugged him again.

"How about we do something to celebrate?"

"You taking me on a date, Bruce Wayne?"

"If the lady allows it."

You laughed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "Where do you have in mind?"

"There's a circus in town. I've heard great things about their acrobats."

"Sounds perfect."


End file.
